Shutting the door behind him, he went out into the dreary night, and
began his lonesome walk back to Monkshaven. The cold sleet almost blinded
him as the sea wind drove it straight in his face; it cut against him
as it was blown with drifting force. The roar of the wintry sea came
borne on the breeze; there was more light from the whitened ground than
from the dark laden sky above. The field-paths would have been a matter
of perplexity had it not been for the well-known gaps in the dyke-side,
which showed the whitened land beyond, between the two dark stone walls.
Yet he went clear and straight along his way, having unconsciously left
all guidance to the animal instinct which co-exists with the human soul,
and sometimes takes strange charge of the human body, when all the nobler
powers of the individual are absorbed in acute suffering. At length he
was in the lane, toiling up the hill, from which, by day, Monkshaven
might be seen. Now all features of the landscape before him were lost in
the darkness of night, against which the white flakes came closer and
nearer, thicker and faster. On a sudden, the bells of Monkshaven church
rang out a welcome to the new year, 1796. From the direction of the
wind, it seemed as if the sound was flung with strength and power right
into Philip’s face. He walked down the hill to its merry sound—its merry
sound, his heavy heart. As he entered the long High Street of Monkshaven,
he could see the watching lights put out in parlour, chamber, or kitchen.
The new year had come, and expectation was ended. Reality had begun.
He turned to the right, into the court where he lodged with Alice Rose.
There was a light still burning there, and cheerful voices were heard. He
opened the door; Alice, her daughter, and Coulson stood as if awaiting
him. Hester’s wet cloak hung on a chair before the fire; she had her hood
on, for she and Coulson had been to the watch-night.
The solemn excitement of the services had left its traces upon her
countenance and in her mind. There was a spiritual light in her usually
shadowed eyes, and a slight flush on her pale cheek. Merely personal and
self-conscious feelings were merged in a loving good-will to all her
fellow-creatures. Under the influence of this large charity, she forgot
her habitual reserve, and came forward as Philip entered to meet him with
her New Year’s wishes—wishes that she had previously interchanged with
the other two.
“A happy New Year to you, Philip, and may God have you in His keeping all
the days thereof!”
He took her hand, and shook it warmly in reply. The flush on her cheek
deepened as she withdrew it. Alice Rose said something curtly about the
lateness of the hour and her being much tired; and then she and her
daughter went upstairs to the front chamber and Philip and Coulson to
that which they shared at the back of the house.